


Cornered

by QuillMage



Category: Gyakuten Saiban | Ace Attorney
Genre: Gen, Threats
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-02
Updated: 2013-03-02
Packaged: 2017-12-04 02:34:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,200
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/705530
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QuillMage/pseuds/QuillMage
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What happened after Phoenix was forced to leave Ema alone with Chief Gant.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cornered

The door closed with a strange finality. There was a deafening silence that made Ema want to scream, want to cry out for Mr. Wright to return, to save her.

Every fiber of her being was telling her, no, _commanding_  her to run, to sprint right out that door and not stop until she was far, far away where he could not find her, where she would be safe. But she couldn’t, he was standing in the front of the sole exit of the room—outside of a fifteen story drop—thus in doing so, he was blocking her only escape route.

It was times like these where one would enter the state of ‘fight or flight’. However, Ema’s instincts didn’t even bother, there was no ‘fight’ option when it came to Chief Gant and where could she possibly flee? There was no place in existence where he could not reach her.

District Chief of Police Damon Gant wields power Redd White could have never had.

Ema’s grip tightened on the strap of her messenger bag and she found the pattern on the tiling suddenly very interesting.

“So, Miss Skye,” Gant began, causing the slightest flinch from Ema, if he had caught the reaction, he did not show it, “you certainly are an extraordinary young woman.”

Ema suppressed a shudder, “T-Thank you…”

Gant slipped his left hand under her chin to gently lift her head up. She had not heard him approach. “You should look people in the eye when they speak to you, Miss Skye, else they may think you weak, manipulable even. Someone as exceptional as you deserves to confidently hold her head high.” To Ema, it felt more like she was baring her throat, “And a beautiful girl like yourself shouldn’t hide her face.”

For a moment, a single disturbing second, Ema could have sworn on her parents’ graves she felt his thumb make a very small stroke across her cheek.

Horror flashed in her eyes as she took an instinctual half-step back.

A terrifyingly disconcerting smile formed on Gant’s face as he withdrew his hand—letting his fingers lightly trail across her face as he did so—that made her strongly believe Gant was very well aware of the context in which his words and actions could be, and no doubt were meant to be, taken. She swallowed as he clasped his arms behind his back and circled around her.

Ema felt his gaze on the back of her neck and started when he placed his large hands on her shoulders and began to gently massage them, “So jumpy and tense, whatever could be wrong, Miss Skye?” he said looking down at her.

She did not answer, all she could think about was how effortless it would be for him to kill her right now, snap her neck like a twig or wrap his hands, no, he’d only need one hand, around her throat and slowly suffocate her. Or perhaps only deprive her of oxygen only long enough to knock her out, and then she would wake up who knows where and who knows what will become of her.

“In fact,” he removed his hands but Ema didn’t feel any less at risk. He turned to walk over to his open safe, arms once again clasped behind his back, “it’s almost exactly how guilty criminals act.”

Ema stiffened and Gant continued, “But what reason would you have to behave in such a way?” he stopped and glanced over his shoulder, “Unless there is something I should be informed of, I would hate to think there was any animosity between myself and Lana’s dear younger sister.”

A chill ran up her spine, “Nothing that I can think of.” She managed to force out.

“I see; that’s comforting to know.” He resumed his approach towards the safe.

Ema eyed the door, Gant’s back was turned—she hoped—and it was a straight shot. She could escape to a public place or find Mr. Wright and not leave his side or better yet, both; if she could just get through that door fast enough. She bent her knees slightly, preparing to take off.

Ema froze when the atmosphere of the room suddenly shifted to one of impending danger and she heard the crinkling of leather, a sound like that of it encasing a hand that had just been clenched into a fist—which was exactly what had happened.

“Curiosity killed the cat, Miss Skye.” Gant said darkly.

She spun around to see him looking at the interior of the empty safe.

Then he turned back around, his mask of cheerfulness back in place, “Nonetheless, satisfaction brought her back I suppose. Odd saying, is it not, Miss Skye? Makes one speculate as to its origins, no?”

Ema remained silent, wondering what her fate would be and thinking about all the things she’ll never be able to do.

“Lana talked about you a good deal when we shared an office; she was very fond of you.” He slowly began to approach her once more, “According to her you were extremely proficient at playing the organ; perhaps you could perform a piece for me.” He gestured to the organ in an ‘after you’ manner, “Tell me, do you know Beethoven’s 5th?”

“Well, a little bit, yes, but…isn’t that organ really loud?”

Gant chuckled and a shiver ran up Ema’s spine that she only barely managed to suppress, “Don’t tell anyone, but the acoustics of this room are designed so that the sound is actually rather quite muted within a two and a half meter radius of the bench, it’s certainly a feat of architecture that astounds even me.”

“O-oh…” she didn’t have a choice; at least she definitely didn’t see any way how to get out of doing it. And she _had_  always wanted to play this organ, right? She swallowed and hesitantly approached the grand pipe organ, setting her bag beside her on the bench without removing the strap from her shoulder.

Ema rested her fingers on the keys, trying to dreg up old knowledge, “I only know part of the middle of it, and I don’t remember it very well either.”

Gant rested his right hand on her left shoulder, “That’s fine, I’m sure it all come back to you as play, things like that always do.”

She nodded and silently congratulated herself on keeping her fingers from shaking. Then she began to play.

Many floors below, the melodic notes of Beethoven’s 5th Symphony were heard. A few people paused, it sounded slightly off—didn’t Chief Gant normally play that piece at a lower, far more ominous, pitch? And he starts from the beginning too, it was rumored to be his favorite part of it after all.

Ema had only played for a little under a minute before stopping, “That’s all I know.” She said softly as the last note faded and she swiftly stood turning to move away from the organ and the feeling of being trapped between it and Gant, unconsciously drifting towards Lana’s old desk to look down absently at it.

Gant gave a small clap, muffled slightly by his gloves, that was nowhere remotely near as boisterous as his others and so much more foreboding because of it, “Nonetheless, what you do know was very good.” He approached her from behind and Ema felt the hairs on the back of her neck to prickle. Gant placed his hands on her shoulders, “With practice you can probably learn all of it. Perhaps I could teach you much more than Beethoven’s symphonies, my dear.”

Ema shuddered, not bothering to hide her reactions now behind a façade, not now that Gant had dropped his own act.

He leaned down to speak in her ear and Ema clenched her eyes shut, “Tell me why you emptied my safe.” He snarled and Ema let out a small sound of pain when Gant’s grip tightened sharply on her shoulders, “What reason do you have to risk and incite my wrath? And let me assure you, my wrath is great and terrible.”

“Y-you’re hurting me. Why are you so upset about this anywa-”

“You do not know the meaning of pain.” He hissed and Ema cried out as he turned her around to face him and pushed her against Lana’s desk, holding her down by her throat with his right hand as she clawed at his gloved fingers, “I know how to inflict perpetual agony and inerasable despair; it would not be the first time I’ve done it. I have made people much older and much younger than you fall to my feet, do not underestimate me. Murder, rape, kidnaping, blackmail, evidence forgery, I will and have done anything to get what I want. And I will gladly do it to you.”

Ema had paled and was still frightened, however she worked up the courage to speak, “You’re off your rocker, old man; you should be locked-up. I have nothing to say to you except go rot in hell, you insane selfish bastard.” If she was going to die, she might as well go down swearing.

“You don’t quite get it, do you?” he said with a patronizing edge to his voice, “When your sister is executed you will have no one. And you shall regret slighting me. You will come crawling back, groveling for forgiveness because I am the only one who you have a chance of convincing to allow you a roof over your pretty little head, I will ensure that. You may think yourself stronger than that, but in times of desperation the need to survive will trump any semblance of pride you may possess. You will belong to me, my dearest Ema.”

The defiance she felt before was beginning to drain away to be replaced by fear and the more Gant spoke, the darker the atmosphere and more damned her future seemed to become.

“You will be mine to do with what I wish. I could have let you die on the streets, be forced to beg for food, have no choice but to sell yourself just so you wouldn’t starve. But no, like the kind old man I am, I took you in and began training you to become a scientific investigator—just like you always dreamed about—that way I can keep you within my sight and under my thumb; and I will tolerate no disrespect or use of foul language from my subordinates to me, the breaking of my rules will result in severe punishment.”

The full reality of her situation was beginning to set in. Ema really could die or worse right here, right now. All those threats Gant was making could be carried out; her sister really could be executed and Ema would end up on the streets or enslaved to a demon. But no…surely…

“S-Surely you can’t do all that.”

“I can do all that and more. I am not above the law, I _am_  the law; I am as untouchable and invincible as a god. And like a god I can deliver divine judgment upon you. There is nowhere and no one you can go to escape me, not even your precious Mr. Wright. I will find you and I will break you. Now tell me what you were doing stealing from my safe.”

Stereotypically, as a woman of science, she was not technically supposed to believe in any greater deity possessing no solid proof of His or Her existence. However if there was ever a time to break the norm, it would be now. Thus Ema now prayed to all matters of luck and fate for someone, anyone, to save her—she could definitely use a hero right about now.

Then the door burst open.

“Chief Gant, sir! I need to talk to you!”

So Ema’s hero was former Detective Dick Gumshoe. She really should have seen something like this coming.

Now that there was a witness, Gant was now trying to pass their positions off as her tripping backwards and hitting the desk. She went along with it if only to get away from him.

“Ahem, sir,” this was said by a police officer who now stepped out from behind Gumshoe; unlike the former detective, he didn’t seemed to have missed how suspicious the scene had looked. However, he kept it to himself as he continued, “the preparations for the questioning of Miss Ema Skye are complete. Seeing as Detec-Mr. Gumshoe wishes to ‘smooth things over’ with you, I can escort her right now.”

“…Very well. Miss Skye, you may leave.”

Ema didn’t even bother to acknowledge his words before swiftly exiting.

As the door closed behind her she turned to the policeman she was walking with to wherever-they-were-going-as-long-as-it-was-away-from-there, “Thank you so much for, err…informing me of this…?” she ended weakly.

The policeman looked at her for a moment before answering, “Thank Det-Mr. Gumshoe, not me. He was the one to remind me to tell the Chief about us being ready for your-”

“-interrogation?”

“No, well…not exactly…”

“Don’t worry about it; just let me call Mr. Wright first, okay?”

“Very well, that sounds permissible.” 


End file.
